


Her field of flowers

by funnyhowthatis



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Xhorhouse (Critical Role)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funnyhowthatis/pseuds/funnyhowthatis
Summary: Jester is there to comfort Yasha in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Yasha
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Her field of flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this shortly after finishing c2e62: Domestic Respite. There's just something so soft about early-Xhorhaus Yasha&Jester?

She dreams of being surrounded by flowers, of the breeze running through her hair, playing with each strand individually. The sky is warm against her cheeks. There are cicadas filling the air with the sound of the sun. In the dream, she takes a deep breath, taking in the scent of the field around her. It is peaceful, it is peaceful, and that makes it more painful when the sky quickly darkens. The insects still. The breeze is no longer that, but instead a harsh wind whipping her hair against her face. There’s a part of her that isn’t surprised about this turn, that expected this. And yet the part of her that had sunk deeply into the field feels like crying. She watches the flowers disappear one by one, each disappearance taking something from her. It is painful, it is painful, and there’s a voice filling the sky _you think you deserved that? After all you’ve done? You only deserve this_ and yet another flower is taken from her. The piercing of a knife being pulled out from her chest. Again, again, again. 

She woke up crying. First, quiet tears streaming down her cheeks, and then a full sob shaking her body. 

A gentle knock interrupted her. She sat up abruptly in bed, quickly making sense of where she was, her face already finding composure. This is what it meant to be a warrior, after all, ready at a moment's notice. If only she could shake the feeling of raw vulnerability as well.

“Yasha?” 

“Yes?”

Jester pushed open the door. “Can I come in?” she asked, already coming in and closing the door behind her. 

“Yasha, why aren’t you under the blankets? They’re very comfortable, you know. I think these Thelyss people really gave us the good stuff.”

Yasha couldn’t help but smile, quickly wiping the last remains of tears from her eyes. “I suppose I’m more used to the ground. I’m not used to all this.” She couldn't maintain the smile for very long, and Jester noticed immediately when it fell.

Jester approached where she sat on the bed, searching her face with such intensity. Yasha lowered her head, unable to keep Jester’s gaze.

“Did I do something - did I wake you?”

“I thought I heard something, like someone crying.”

Jester reached out and gently lifted Yasha’s chin.

“You _have_ been crying. Let me sit with you. I should have brought Sprinkle, too, he can be very comforting.”

“I’m not sure I’m in a weasel mood right now.”

“That’s probably better.” Jester leaned in a bit, and said, hushed, “I don’t think he’s really in a people mood right now.”

She then sat down cross-legged on the bed, facing Yasha, leaving just a few inches between their knees. “Do you want to talk about why you were crying?”

“I had… I had a dream.” What was it about Jester that made her feel so at ease? That made her share things she'd otherwise rather bury unexamined?

“Ooh, was it the Stormlord? Did he send something else to fight you?” Jester reached out to - she recognizes - cast a small cure wounds before Yasha stopped her.

“No, actually. I think this one was just a nightmare.”

“The Stormlord didn’t say anything to you?”

“No… Do you ever hear a voice in your head, but it’s from you?”

Jester’s concerned expression grew, if possible, even softer. “What did you say to you?”

“Some… some very not nice things.”

“Yasha,” she said her name almost sternly. “It might be helpful to talk about it. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Not even the Traveler. Well, maybe just the Traveler.”

“I was… I was standing in a field. Kind of like this. And the dream told me I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t?”

“That I don’t deserve this.”

“Do you always feel like this? Like you don’t think you deserve anything good?”

“Yes.” It comes out so small, and Yasha wished she could hide the waver in her voice.

Jester reached out suddenly and took Yasha’s hands in hers, gripping them tightly. It broke Yasha’s heart a little more to hear the pain in Jester’s voice, at how much concern Jester had, as she said, “I know that some very bad things happened, and I know you don’t like what you did, but Yasha, you do deserve good things. You know? You do.”

“That’s very kind, Jester.”

“I can tell you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not really something I can turn off, I think.”

“What if I just remind you every day? Will that help?”

Yasha looked around at the walls that Jester had painted. “You already have.”

“You still like them?”

“I love them. Especially that one.” She nodded to the small dick that Jester had snuck in amongst the petals.

“That _is_ a really good one, isn’t it.”

They laughed quietly together, Yasha suddenly very aware of the way Jester’s thumbs were tracing patterns on her skin, and how close their faces were now.

“Thank you, Jester. Really.”

“I think I’ll stay here tonight, okay?”

“But Beau…?”

“She’s already sleeping! And snoring _really loudly_.”

“Okay.”

“Come, like this.” And with that, Jester dropped Yasha’s hands and rearranged herself so that they could lie down next to one another. 

“Yasha, do you think maybe we could sleep under the blankets?”

She chuckled. “Yes. Let’s try that.”

She lay stiff, under the blankets, at first. She had turned to face away from Jester, to the wall of flowers. After a moment, she felt Jester turn into her back, a warm and steady presence, and eventually she let herself relax into her. 

“Goodnight, Yasha,” Jester whispered into her back.

“Goodnight, Jes.”

Yasha sank back into dreams. A field of flowers, again. But this time the sky didn’t turn. And she wasn’t alone.


End file.
